


Techienician's Twelve Days of Christmas

by AtlinMerrick



Series: Binary Stars: Techienician [11]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Bookshop, Fake Dating, First Time, Holiday warm fuzzies…in space, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Soulmates, Techienician, Tropes, accidental voyeur/spying, anthropomorphism/pet play, coffeeshop, enemies or friends to lovers, kids/mpreg, kylux adjacent, pirates/tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-09-21 11:53:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17043248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtlinMerrick/pseuds/AtlinMerrick
Summary: Twelve Techie and Mattie tales with common tropes…bookstore, fake dating, first time. Also doingClydelandandKylux.Kids





	1. Round and Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twelve Techie and Mattie tales with common tropes…bookstore, fake dating, first time. Also doing [Clydeland](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17037689/chapters/40058327) and [Kylux](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17038031/chapters/40059065).
> 
> _Kids_

Until they found kyber running through Neftali's caverns, Cordel Cove was the ice world's only settlement.

Well it's _still_ the only settlement, only now it sprawls with a couple million sentients and Techie's pretty sure at least half of them have shown up for the winter carnival.

At least half of _those_ are clustered around the ice bars, consuming whatever crystallized intoxicant most suits their biology, while the other half skate on a wide frozen lake.

At least half of _those_ skaters can't, from what Techie can see and yeah, from the banks he can see just fine. There's his Mattie with his sun-bright hair and beaming grin who, the second he stepped on to the ice, fell off his feet and onto his face. Just like that blue- and black-striped Togruta over there with mittens on her lekku. Worse than Mattie, she's fallen more than she's stood, but she keeps trying. Techie's not sure if Togruta skin bruises but if it does how would this one know?

And over there is a group of Bridcoddles, all of whom fell down a long time ago and just never bothered getting up. Now they're sort of…Techie tilts his head…swimming across the ice, all twelve of them. It looks fun.

But look is all Techie's gonna do. He has zero interest in skating cause that time last year when he slid slick through a grease spot in Spiir spaceport? Yeah, well he fell and landed on his coccyx and went _blind._ It wasn't even for a minute but a minute might as well be a year for a man who'd lost his sight at fourteen and didn't get it back until his mam could afford mechs.

So _anyway,_ Galacian Asha'Techk's not getting on the kriffin' ice thanks so much, but that's good because if Techie was, Techie wouldn't really see what he's seeing.

What he's seeing is his Mattie, his sweetheart, his love, tip-tottering round and round on that ice because Matt can't skate for love nor loth-cats.

Except skating he is, because ringing him and clutching his belt are seven teeny tiny sentients—Espirions, Miralukas, and Dor Namethians children—all keeping Mattie on his feet and moving, as if it is their solemn duty to do so.

For as intent as they are, the children are positively _beaming,_ holding one to the other by holding on to Matt, and if you look, if you're Techie and you just look, well you wonder how planets much less a whole galaxy could ever go to war.

Two wee Togrutas stumble-skate close, their orange montrals barely more than little buds, and Mattie holds his hands out to them. They each clutch a long finger and hold tight.

Then round and round they all go, tiny laughing sunbeams circling their big yellow star.

_—  
I love Mattie and Techie so much. I'll be writing tiny tales for the twelve days of Christmas with these tropes in this order: family/kids/mpreg; first time; coffeeshop; fake dating; sharing a bed; pirates/tentacles; enemies or friends to lovers; bookshop; arranged marriage; anthropomorphism; soulmates; accidental voyeur/spying. Feel free to prompt!_


	2. By Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt learns that Techie…names things.
> 
> _First time_

There was absolutely a first time Mattie wondered about the sanity of his boy.

Okay, not really _really_ wondered, but kind of a _little_ bit wondered.

Cause though Techie's a solid six foot two, and though he can grow a beard bigger than an entire snow bear, one night early in their relationship, Matthew Kee came to the conclusion that Galacian Asha'Techk was either five years old or crazier than a Nekarr cat on 'nip.

"No, no, no!" Techie laughed, bouncing on his knees on their bed.

That night Matt also came to the conclusion that he wouldn't trade his orange madman for an entire world.

"First you have to say it Mattie," said Techie, index fingers over his own bare nipples, "you have to say it!"

Stretched out long on their bed, Matt giggled and reached to capture his bare boy, but Techie cackled and bounced right on up to his feet.

"No, no, no!" he sang, each jump brushing his long hair up against the ceiling and bouncing his hard cock up against his belly.

Kriff, there was nothing for it. If Matt wanted some of that action up his ass _and_ to keep his love from knocking himself out on the next big leap, he was going to have to say it.

So he did.

"They're not nipples."

Techie bounced to his knees between Matt's thighs. Eyes bright and wide, he started running fingertips round and round his not-nipples until a pretty pearl beaded up at the tip of his cock.

Matt hooked his legs and pulled, until Techie fell forward, his narrow chest pressing soft against Matt's mouth, his cock pressing hard against Matt's ass.

"They're not nipples," Matt whispered, tongue flicking a pink peak. "They're nip nops."

Techie cackled, Matt angled, and a cock slipped slow in to an ass.

And tomorrow? Well, tomorrow would be the first time Mattie learned what Techie calls _that._

_—  
*Shifty eyes* I think it was my dear Winkle-type friend who came up with the term nip nops, and you just go on and look at this and tell me Techie's nipples aren't. Those [right there](https://twitter.com/AtlinMerrick/status/1101573177572876288)? Those are nip nops for sure. P.S. This is what Techie [calls it](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7377706/chapters/23149464)._


	3. Bunny Ears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A coffeeshop on Christmas eve would turn a holy man hellish, and Matt is not a holy man. 
> 
> Though he's pretty sure that red-haired man is an angel... 
> 
> _Coffeeshop_

"Hey sasquatch!"

A coffeeshop on Christmas eve would turn a holy man hellish, and Matthew Kee is not a holy man.

"Yo, monster truck—"

Especially when the drunks pour in to _Radar Rey's,_ the only all-night coffee shop for miles around. Tonight half of them are already loaded, loud, and fishing for a fight.

"—I'm talking to you."

Matthew Kee will not give them one.

Espresso steam flushing his cheeks pink, instead Matt counts to ten and amiably says, "And I heard you. As you can see I'm making drinks ordered before yours."

He takes the time to put little latte art Christmas trees on the coffees, calls them out, and just as he starts the guy's Americanos, the drunk idiot drums his palms on the counter and says, "Hurry up, bigfoot."

It may be the season of dear baby Jesus, but _dear baby Jesus_ Matt really, really, really doesn't want to punch anyone. Because he's absolutely not that kind of guy, okay? People _want_ him to be and ooooh it would be so easy to just give in to the rage, to pound the idiots who pick on—

—what now?

Matt blinks. Even in the packed cafe the skinny man stands out. It's not just his long, red hair and bright blue eyes either, it's also that every time Matt catches sight of him he's sipping at his frapuccino and smiling everywhere. At the walls or the door or his cup.

At Matt.

They'd talked a few minutes at the beginning of Matt's shift. "—name's Techie. I work just over there. I'm a programmer." Matt told him about starting a computer repair masters in the autumn, then it just got too busy to say more.

"Tinkerbelle, are you fucking _growing_ the beans?"

But the skinny guy, Techie, he'd lingered and now he's, well he's standing right behind the rude drunk, pushing his own nose up with his thumbs. Matt's pretty sure he can see right up into Techie's brain. He's _definitely_ sure Techie's nose hair is ginger.

Matt giggles as he slides the Americanos over the counter. The rude guy grabs the coffees and disappears into the crowd.

Five minutes later three kids place an order for triple-shot fraps and when they get them, insist the drinks are warm. "We ordered, like, fifteen minutes ago."

"Yes, but the drinks were made _just now."_

They bitch some more and behind their heads Techie does bunny ears. Only the bunnies have one ear. Techie's skinny middle fingers. Matt giggles again, the kids take their drinks and bugger off.

Later twins insist, in perfect stereo, that Matt used whole milk instead of skim and quick-smart he's this close to making their drinks again when behind them Techie starts pirouetting like a ballerina, wearing a hank of his own hair as a moustache. Matt loses it, laughing so hard he wheezes.

By the time he's giggled his way through Techie deploying the pig nose again for another drunk, giggled through a hula dance behind bickering siblings, and giggled as Techie pretends to creepily sniff an uppity semi-famous person's hair, Matthew Kee is in love.

And now, clocked out just before midnight, Matthew Kee is _armed._

He's holding two large, quad-shot fraps, caramel drizzle, extra whip and Techie's smiling as he approaches, but this time it's not at the walls or the door or his cup.

He smiles at Matt.

At Matt.

At Matt.

"Hi again," Techie whispers, pressing the gift frap to his chest. Then natural as breathing they take one another's hand, Techie spins in a pirouette beneath Matt's arm, and together they disappear into the night.

_—  
I'd love prompts for the remaining tropes of _ _fake dating; sharing a bed; pirates/tentacles; enemies or friends to lovers; bookshop; arranged marriage; anthropomorphism; soulmates; accidental voyeur/spying_ _. And thank you 221b_hound for helping me figure out the wee story I wanted to tell here!_


	4. A Regiment of Lifesavers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techie doesn't talk much but he finds ways to say what he needs to say... 
> 
> _Bookshop_

At first Matthew Kee noticed him because he was beautiful. Red hair, pale skin, blue eyes you could see from the doorway.

Then he noticed him because he came back at the same time every day—two hours before closing.

Then, then, _then_ Matt noticed the man because the man scuffed his feet.

Night.

After night.

After _night._

Look, Matt knows the sound shouldn't drive him a teeny titch crazypants, but the sound does, it absolutely does, because Matthew Kee is a teeny titch _high fucking strung._

He is working on this.

A bookstore is a good place for that. There's a battalion of books everywhere, super useful books with titles like _Anger: Let the Past Die, The Greatest Teacher is Failure,_ and _3-2-1 Polite!_

So, because Matt has read these books and twenty-eight others along the same lines, Matt did not fly off the handle and shout "Pretty dude could you please pick up your fucking feet ohmygod." Instead he sends his cousin Kylo all-cap texts every night as the pretty ginger scuffs from one side of the bookstore to the other, slowly filling his arms with books he never seems to buy.

Tonight Kylo dared him to just go find the guy down the dusty stacks and politely ask the guy, the pretty guy, the shoe-scuffing guy to, you know, maybe not scuff? Please? Because reasons?

So Matt is, right now he is, he's looking and he's reshelving books as he finds them and he's already forgot why he's prowling the aisles when he suddenly finds the man alone, near the back of the shop. Finds him pacing in cramped and jittery circles, fingers in his mouth, while he tries to breathe.

All six foot three inches of Matthew Kee melted back into shadow.

Cause Matt knows what panic attacks sound like and that, right there that was the sound of _his_ attacks. Breath hitching over what wants to be words but which can't _be_ without the breath to make them.

Before the red-haired guy knew he was there Matt tip-toed away, holding his own breath until he made it to the safety of the till, and to his own regiment of lifesavers beside it.

He picked up the heaviest paperweight, let its solidity pull down his arm. He thought about how many times these bulky beauties had grounded him with their coldness or beauty or weight when he couldn't think or breathe, how each reminded him of something he loved or wished for or wanted.

If he were better at talking to people Matt would tell the pretty red-haired man about them, about how anything can help ground you when the panic dries your words, when the anxiety turns into a snake eating its own tail, but Matt's still learning how to talk about things that matter, instead of things that don't.

"Hi." Head bowed, the red-haired man stood right there on the other side of the counter, quiet as a ghost.

Matt blinked fast. He glanced around the bookshop as if he could find the sound of scuffing somewhere, then he whispered, "Hello back."

The man lifted his head a teeny titch, smiling. Peeping through his lashes he very slowly and very meticulously placed his books on the counter, as if creating an edifice that must last for centuries.

The spine of the first said _The Science of Star Wars._ Matt pulled it across the counter, beaming at the man as he rang it up. He loved Star Wars. One of his paperweights even had the Death Star inside.

The next book was _Bats of the World_ and Matt hooted. Actually hooted. He tapped at a blown-glass bat inside one of his other paperweights. "Bats!"

It was the third book that slowed Matt down. It was a children's book, _Tick-Tock Goes the Dandelion Clock,_ and the red-haired man had put it on the counter next to Matt's…dandelion clock paperweight.

When the man placed _The Rose Maze_ beside Matt's favorite paperweight, the one Kylo gave him to help him calm down when he needed it, the one inside which were a dozen tiny roses geometrically arranged and inside which he'd lose himself calmly counting the petals or following the small paths with his eyes, Matt looked into the pretty man's blue, blue eyes.

With the finest smile in the world the red-haired man put _Boy Likes Boy_ on the counter and whispered, "I'm Techie."

The clock chimed eight and then nine and then ten while Matt and Techie talked and talked about all sorts of things. Things that matter.

 _—_  
_Thank you DaisyFairy, I used your wonderful prompt for a Clydeland story but couldn't stop thinking about Techie scuffing around Mattie's bookshop and working up the courage to flirt via book titles. P.S. Here's the[Death Star paperweight](https://d1w8cc2yygc27j.cloudfront.net/4286203301035736069/-8566727727977828006.jpg), the [dandelion clock](http://www.dandelionpaperweights.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/20121017-073437.jpg), and the inspiration for the [rose maze](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/2142/2737/products/Screen_Shot_2017-09-17_at_10.50.48_pm_400x400.png?v=1527380846)._


	5. Mo'romi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Soulmates_
> 
> Romance holos'll tell you what soulmates are, but they don't really get it right.
> 
> Techie knows, oh he knows.

Moonlight. Whispers. Flowers. Swooning.

Just like everybody, Techie knows how the 'soulmates' thing goes. He's seen the romance holos and read the books, sweethearts understanding the power of their love under moonlight. With whispers. And swooning. All the stuff they say says 'soulmates.'

Well, kriff that noise.

Oh sure, holding hands among a field of flowers as you declare your passion is all fine and good, Galacian Asha'Techk will give it that. But you know what? So is standing close-close-close over the hydroponics garden during third shift, humping your new boyfriend's leg while he moans soft against your neck.

And pfassk yes, it's great to give your sweetheart dewy gigglebuds that match his bright hair, and a n'omis flower that matches his dark eyes, Techie know that too because he's _done_ that. But he also knows it's great to apologise with soft kisses when you turn out to be allergic to n'omis flowers and sneeze snot all over your sweetheart's glasses.

So yeah, soulmates means a lot of things and though Matt is Techie's three years husband now, he's still learning about that. Like how a soulmate supports his husband through all six stages of withdrawal from Mo'romi double-caf cream.

Again.

"ARE YOU AWAKE BABY?"

Techie's eyes fly open. Had he closed them? When had he closed them? Yes, sure, he's supposed to close them while in bed, but he can't sleep yet, not yet. Matt is only on stage three. No, no now he's at stage four. Four is yelling.

Fighting a dozy yawn Techie stretches his fine, naked acreage and says, "No Mattie, I was jus' blinking something out of—"

"OH NO IS THERE SOMETHING IN YOUR EYE?"

Matt is suddenly a nose-length away, a magnifier in hand. Given that Matt is naked from the waist in both directions, Techie has no clue where the magnifier came from, but you know what? Right now he doesn't care if it came out of Matt's ass, so he blink-blinks sleepily as Matt peers into his peepers.

"YOU'RE SO PRETTY BABY."

The magnifier vanishes, Matt cups Gala's face, and just like that he enters stage five of his withdrawal: whispering endearments.

"My precious solar flare," he says, touching Gala's sweaty hair as if it's silk, his lashes as if they're the rarest kind of ridiculous, he kisses all the slick places were no freckles are, but where freckles ought to be.

"My little Lleev worm."

Dreamily Techie reached for Matt's cock. Still slick with lube and come, the persistent erection Gala's already sucked once and ridden twice is at last, after almost a full night cycle, soft as a box of melted ladybabies.

Oh blessed maker, that means stage six is coming. Techie loves stage six.

"My fire angel."

Techie squirms as Matt licks his nipples.

"My roseberry star."

He wriggles as Matt licks his ribs.

"Sweetheart."

Techie sighs and turns onto his belly.

"Gala."

Matt licks, and licks, and licks.

—  
 _Lee suggested Techie discover coffee, but then the boys took things from there. Thank you Lee! P.S. Ladybabies are really a Star Wars thing.[IloveWookieepedia](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Main_Page)._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Tumblr](http://atlinmerrick.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/atlinmerrick) and would shout pretty giddy-loud if you said hello.


End file.
